


Greatest Fear

by lasairfhiona



Category: West Wing
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-21
Updated: 2012-01-21
Packaged: 2017-10-29 21:30:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lasairfhiona/pseuds/lasairfhiona
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Post "Commencement" and touches on "Twenty Five"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Greatest Fear

The Portland thing was going to drive him crazy. Torrential rains. Closed ports. And now their actions hinged on a possible typo. Margaret wasn't the only one who was going to go insane at the news. The Governor of Oregon wasn't going to be happy if the Port of Portland was closed because of someone's stupid error. He was done for the night. He needed the clear mind a few hours of sleep would bring him. Just as he was about to go home, he turned and saw Ron Butterfield standing in the open doorway to the Situation Room. It wasn't unusual for Ron to come see him when he had a security issue he wanted to go over before taking it to the President, or when the President himself had escaped the watchful eyes of the Secret Service. There was something about Ron's face that told him this was something else. Something not run of the mill. Something the normally stoic agent didn't want to have to tell him.

"Ron?" Leo questioned walking up to the agent, wondering what could be going on that would warrant Ron meeting him here.

In a breathless voice, Ron began, "We have a situation. We're opted black and procedurally the Chief of Staff is told before…"

"What happened?" Leo asked cutting Ron off, his concern about what might have happened growing with the obvious state Ron was in.

"Zoey Bartlet is missing and there is a dead agent at the scene," Ron informed Leo succinctly.

Shell-shocked, Leo stood there for a moment before looking at Ron for confirmation that he'd heard what he thought he'd heard. When Ron nodded, Leo's first thought went to his friends. His second was to Zoey and what she must be going through at that moment. He had to tell Jed and Abbey. Not the President and the First Lady but his old friends Jed and Abbey. Something happening to the girls had been Jed's greatest fear and biggest worry about holding the office of President. He never wanted to have his daughters held against him because of his position which was why he drove them and the Secret Service crazy with questions about their security. Now Leo had to tell Jed his greatest fear was realized. Zoey was missing. Kidnapped.

Without consciously thinking about it, Leo turned and headed toward the Residence. He already knew how Jed would react. It was the same way he'd react if something happened to Mallory. They were fathers and there was no other way for them to react about a crisis surrounding their daughters. Quickening his pace until he was running, Leo sprinted through the hallways to the Oval Office and down the Portico to the Residence with Ron and the Secret Service detail right behind him. As much as he didn't want to give this news he knew it couldn't wait. Zoey couldn't wait.

He and Ron slowed their pace as they neared the room where Jed and Abbey were entertaining friends and parents of other graduating seniors. He didn't want to go racing into the room and scare them anymore than the news he had to deliver would terrify them. He could hear the laughter coming from the small gathering and hated to end such a wonderful day for all of them. Out of breath, Leo stood with Ron in the doorway, waiting for the President to notice them and dreading the moment he did.

'Oh God,' Leo thought as Jed noticed them and headed their way with a smile on his face, a drink in one hand and photos, undoubtedly of Zoey, in the other. Leo wanted nothing more than to take the drink from Jed's hand and gulp it down to bolster his courage for when he told Jed his greatest fear had happened.


End file.
